


Shady Love

by Abby_S



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: 5 Things, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Phone Sex, Post s02e08, Resolved Sexual Tension, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-15
Updated: 2014-06-15
Packaged: 2018-02-04 19:00:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1789735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abby_S/pseuds/Abby_S
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"<em>And Felix gets it, he does. He gets feeling alone. He gets having to deal with shit you don’t even understand. He gets the feeling of having nowhere to go, no one to talk to. </em>"</p><p>--</p><p>Or, five times Tony calls Felix.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shady Love

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by the lovely VeraBAdler. Thank you :) 
> 
>  
> 
> This is canon divergent post s02e08. Title shamelessly stolen from the Scissor Sisters' song _Shady Love_. 
> 
> I'm ridiculously nervous about posting this, since it's my first work in this fandom, but, yeah. Here it is. *waves awkwardly and slinks back in the shadows*

1.

The first time Tony calls, it’s the middle of the night. It’s four in the fucking morning, actually, and Felix groans and burrows deeper under his duvet. Then, of course, the dreaded, shrill ring makes its way through the haze of his pill-induced sleep. He feels like he hasn’t been able to catch a full night of sleep since the beginning of the whole clone fiasco.

He fumbles for his phone, eventually finds it in his pillowcase.

“Jolly fuck, this better be important.”

On the other end, Tony snorts.

“Interrupted your beauty sleep, Fifi?”

Felix almost hangs up right then and there. He sits up in his bed, glaring at nothing.

“Okay, first off, don’t call me Fifi, or so help me God I will end you.”

Tony laughs. The guy is so annoying. It’s a wonder Felix can even tolerate him.

“Wow, you’re a cranky one, aren’t you?”

Felix sighs and slumps back on his bed, wishing, not for the first time, to go back to the days when a call at four a.m. promised a good shag instead of an endless stream of troubles.

“What do you want, mate? ‘Cause if you don’t give me something, I’m hanging up.”

“Wait.” There’s a new urgency to Tony’s voice, a hesitation, like he’s not quite sure why he’s still talking but he's doing it anyway. It’s this slight hitch in his posturing, this fleeting moment of raw honesty that stops Felix from ending the call, thumb hovering over the button.

“What.”

Tony sighs, clipped. “Look, I just needed to talk to someone, ‘kay? And it’s not like the contact list gave me a lotta choice, right? Artie doesn’t look like a sharing and caring kind of guy, and Sarah’s got her own shit to take care of.”

Felix wonders in what weird alternate universe _he_ looks like a sharing and caring kind of guy. He also wonders what in this fucking mess of a day gave Tony the impression that he doesn’t have his fair share of shit to take care of.

But then he remembers. Remembers that Tony just lost his buddy, that he’s had to rethink his whole worldview and that identity crisis or not, finding out you’re a clone can’t be easy.

And Felix gets it, he does. He gets feeling alone. He gets having to deal with shit you don’t even understand. He gets the feeling of having nowhere to go, no one to talk to.

So he says “Alright. Alright, Tony,” and hopes it won’t come back to bite him in the arse.

*~*~*~*

2.

The second time, Felix is painting. He’s painting Cosima, blood on her lips, surrounded by a sea of white, because he doesn’t know what else to do. It’s not like he could be useful, anyway. Since Doctor Creepy kicked it, it’s been pretty calm in the bad guys department. He’s not stupid enough to believe it’ll be permanent, of course, but he can finally take a break.

Except he can’t stop thinking about all the shit that went down, all the shit that’s about to go down. So he paints. He lets his hands take over and wishes he could turn off his brain for half a second. So he wouldn’t see Cosima’s hollow face, see the tear tracks on Delphine’s cheeks and Sarah’s clenched jaw. So he wouldn’t hear Kira asking if it’s somehow her fault, if her tooth wasn’t good enough.

He almost forgets to answer his phone, picks up at the last second, with barely a _yeah_ to offer in greeting.

“Hola, Fifi.”

And Holy Baudelaire, is Felix glad to hear his voice. It actually hits him like a wave, the feeling of being _safe_. Of having someone to talk to that isn’t Sarah, because as much as he loves her, she’s neck-deep in trouble at the moment and he can’t exactly expect her to play the shrink.

“Shut up,” he says, trying to keep his voice from trembling. Tony must hear it anyway, because he immediately asks what’s wrong.

So Felix tells him everything: tells him about Cosima’s sickness, about Mrs. S. and her lies, about Kira, who’s taken to asking after her daddy at the most random moments. He tells Tony about the dude he brought home last night, a burly bear who felt _wrong_ for some reason, so wrong he ended up puking his guts out in the trash can while the guy patted him on the back. When he’s done, he’s actually out of breath, and Tony stays silent for so long Felix has to check his phone to make sure he hasn’t been talking to himself for the last twenty minutes.

“Do you want me to come back?” Tony asks, just like that, like it’s that simple. Like he’d do it if Felix said _yes_ , would come back into the lion’s den in a blink. That’s when Felix realizes two things: one, Tony is a fucking nutcase, and two, Felix would very much like to say _yes_.

He says no.

*~*~*~*

3.

The third time breaks the pattern of Tony’s calls being something that Felix likes, looks forward to, even if he’d never admit it aloud. It’s not the third call, not really. Tony’s been calling regularly, chattering Felix’s ear off about things and stuff, the weather, how the coffee in the place he works is fucking disgusting, how the guys all look old and closeted.

Felix is with Kira, playing in the living room while Mrs. S. whispers away with two of her men in the kitchen, when his phone rings. He picks up immediately when he sees the caller’s ID. Tony’s never called during the day. He says it’s because he’s busy, but Felix is pretty sure he’s just a pain in the arse.

 “Felix?” Tony’s voice is frenzied, like he’s high, or in pain, or really fucking terrified. Felix would prefer the first possibility. He stands up brusquely, leaving Kira to stare at him, her tiny eyebrows drawn up in worry. He’d give anything not to see this expression on his niece’s face ever again, but recently it’s become kind of a permanent fixture.

“Mummy?” she mouths, biting her lip. Felix shakes his head and she relaxes ever so slightly. Felix takes a deep breath and walks away.

“What’s going on?”

There’s a scuffling sound, a grunt.

“I ran into trouble.”

Felix very much wants to roll his eyes and snark something about stating the obvious, but the way Tony’s breathing, harsh and punctuated with pained grunts, hits a little too close to home for comfort.

“What happened?”

“The suits. They found me.” A hiss. “Shot me in the leg. I managed to shake them off, but I –God _fucking_ dammit, just, I need help.”

 _Don’t panic_ , Felix thinks, even as he does the exact opposite.

“Where are you?”

Tony tells him, and Felix hangs up to call Art. He still doesn’t like it, having to rely on a cop, but Art is pretty decent and it’s not like he has a whole lot of choice. He’s no ruthless badass, can’t exactly jump in and hope for the best.

He calls Tony back as soon as he’s in the car, with Art grumbling and breaking all the rules of safe driving Felix can think of. For a cop, the lad sure likes to go fast.

Tony picks up almost immediately and Felix feels insanely relieved.

“We’re coming. How are you holding up?”

“What happened to you not worrying about me, Fifi?” Tony says, and yeah, he must be okay if he still has it in him to annoy the shit out of Felix.

“Shut the fuck up and talk to me.”

Art throws him a sideways glance, raising an eyebrow, like he’s saying _you don’t make sense, jackass_.

Felix flips him the bird.

*~*~*~*

That’s how Felix finds himself with a cranky clone of his sister’s on his sofa.

Again.

Tony’s had to strip down to his underwear for Delphine to examine him. She’d bitched about non-sterile environments and hospitals and her not being a doctor, but eventually she’d let herself be coaxed into dislodging the bullet from Tony’s thigh. Tony had just – _taken_ it, gritting his teeth and not making a sound other than a faint groan when her forceps had pulled out the small bundle of metal. She’d disinfected the wound and bandaged Tony’s leg before leaving to get meds.

“What a douche,” Tony says when Felix closes the door behind her.

Felix feels a surge of righteous, white-hot irritation.

“Hey, go easy on her. Her girlfriend’s dying. She didn’t have to do that.”

Tony closes his eyes and sighs. He’s pale, features gaunt and wary.

“Sorry.”

Felix leans against the wall and tries not to watch Tony’s body, tries not to remember how soft his lips had been when they’d kissed.

 _Tries_ being the key word.

That’s when he makes a decision. He needs to get very, very drunk, and he definitely could do with a shag.

“I’m going out tonight. Don’t do anything stupid.”

Tony shifts on the sofa and laughs.

 _Fuck him_ , Felix thinks, and takes his bag.

*~*~*~*

4.

He’s in the alley behind the bar, getting a blowjob from some nameless guy. It’s a little too sloppy for his liking, but he takes it anyway – he’s that desperate.

When his phone rings, he doesn’t think twice before answering, ignoring the man’s outraged groan. The guy doesn’t stop, though, and the moment Tony speaks, the blowjob magically gets a million times better.

“What d’you want?” Felix groans, head thumping against the wall. He hears a slight rustle, like Tony just shrugged.

“I’m bored.” A pause, and Felix bites his lip to hold off a moan. “Wait, are you with someone?” He doesn’t sound offended. Curious, maybe. A little amused. This time, Felix _does_ moan, and tries not to thrust in the man’s mouth.

“You are, aren’t you?” He whistles. “Well, buddy, you’re less vanilla than I thought.”

Felix chokes out a laugh.

“Tony, this is highly disturbing.”

Except it isn’t, and Tony must know it, because when he speaks again, his voice is lower, rougher. And holy cow, Felix is _not_ vanilla, but this might be the dirtiest thing he’s ever done.

“I don’t see you hanging up.”

There isn’t a lot Felix can say to that.

“What’s he doing to you?”

Felix’s cheeks are too warm, and the guy’s mouth is _scorching_.

“S-sucking me off.”

Tony groans, swears under his breath. Felix wonders what he’s doing.

“Are you wishing it was me, Fifi?”

 _Fuck_. Felix is so not answering that.

“I know you are,” Tony goes on. “I know you want me. Come on, I’m not blind.” He’s panting, and Felix grits his teeth. This is so _wrong_. He doesn’t mean to say it aloud, but he must do it anyway, because Tony laughs.

“It’s not _wrong_. It’s the opposite of wrong, and you know it. And you’re going to come for me. You’re going to imagine it’s my mouth that’s doing it to you, and you’re going to _love_ it, aren’t you, Felix?”

It’s hearing his name in Tony’s voice that tips Felix over the edge, and he groans as he fills the condom, hips jerking.

“Shite,” he grits out.

He is in _so much_ trouble.

*~*~*~*

 

Felix comes back to a dark apartment, and for half a second he lets himself hope that Tony fell asleep. He really doesn’t want to talk about whatever the fuck happened earlier.

Of course the light clicks on the minute he steps into the living room and there is Tony, still sitting on the sofa, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Holy –” Felix gasps, stumbling back until he hits a wall. There seems to be a lot of wall slamming at the moment. He’s not quite sure how to feel about that.

“Hiya, Fifi,” Tony says. The smug arsehole.

“Oh god. Can we not do this now?”

Tony stands up and crosses the room way too fast for someone who got shot in the leg mere hours ago. He’s staring up at Felix, eyes dark and assessing, still smirking. His lips are a breath away from his, and it’s all Felix can do not to kiss him again.

“I was under the impression that you really wanted to do this, pretty boy,” Tony murmurs, and Felix shivers.

“Do what?” he says faintly, and it’s unconvincing even to his own ears. Tony sways further into his personal space and bloody hell, Felix is getting hard again.

“You know _what_ , Felix. I told you, I know you want me, so how about you stop the innocent act?”

Felix draws in a deep breath, and nods. They’ve been beating around the bush for long enough, he supposes. Tony’s smirk softens for a split-second, and it’s enough to send Felix’s heart racing.

“So, what d’you say? You want me to show you what you’ve been missing out on?”

Felix couldn’t talk if he wanted to, mouth too dry to even try. So he nods again and lets Tony drag him to the bed.

*~*~*~*

 

He wakes up, and there’s a guy in his bed. He’s aching all over, but it’s a good ache. He looks over at Tony and tries not to smile at the way he’s sprawled, taking up way too much space. _Takes up too much space_ is pretty much how he’d describe Tony, anyway. The guy is brash, annoying, and everything Felix didn’t know he wanted.

God, who is he kidding, he _likes_ the guy. It hasn’t happened to him in years, to be glad to wake up next to someone. Too bad this someone looks just like his foster sister, and that’s just plain _weird_.

 _What am I supposed to do now_?

Tony shifts, yawns, face scrunched up. It’s kind of cute.

“Stop thinking and go back to sleep, sister banger.”

Felix laughs and throws a pillow at him.

*~*~*~*

5.

He’s with Sarah at the flat. They’re just chilling, hanging out together, and it feels so good to do that again. Cosima’s been stabilized, and Doctor Creepy 2.0 is working on some sort of cure. No one’s tried to take Kira in weeks. Helena is out of the picture, but there isn’t a lot they can do about it at the moment. Felix knows Sarah’s feeling guilty about ditching her, even though she’ll never admit it.

Tony’s out doing Tony things. Felix doesn’t even want to know. He’s been here for two weeks now and they’re still doing…whatever the fuck it is they’re doing. They’re not _boyfriends_ or whatever. Felix doesn’t do boyfriends. And he’s not worried about what Tony’s up to. He’s _not_.

“What’s up with you?” Sarah asks when he checks his phone for the fifth time in ten minutes. Felix shrugs and takes a drag of the joint before handing it to her.

“Nothing.”

Sarah looks at him like she knows he’s lying, but before she can grill him, the phone rings. He almost drops his beer in his haste to get it and of course, it’s Tony.

“Where are you?” he snaps, because Tony hasn’t been home in more than twenty-four hours and he figures that gives him a free pass in the nagging department.

Tony barks out a laugh, and Felix’s hand tighten around his phone. He hates this guy.

Or maybe he doesn’t. And isn’t that swell?

“Worried about me, are you?”

Felix scoffs. “I’m not _worried,_ you twat.”

“Whatever you say, pretty boy. Anyways, I had stuff to take care of. I’m bringing takeout and booze.”

Felix pukes a little in his mouth, it’s so domestic. Still, when he hangs up, he’s smiling, and Sarah’s looking at him like he’s grown a second head.

“What?” he says defensively. _Too_ defensively, shit. She raises an eyebrow, and that’s when he knows he’s busted.

“Really, Felix? _Really?_ ”

Felix shrugs and drinks half of his beer in one go in an attempt at looking nonchalant. Of course he chokes, and ends up coughing his lungs out while Sarah slaps him on the back. _Violently_.

“So,” she says while Felix tries not to die, his eyes squeezed shut. “Tony, huh?”

Felix cracks one eye open.

“It doesn’t weird you out?” he asks, and, yeah. _So_ not the reaction he was expecting.

Sarah shrugs.

“Meh. He doesn’t even look that much like me.”

Felix stares at her disbelievingly, because hello, _clones_ , and she taps her chin thoughtfully. “I think it’s the beard. It’s hot, isn’t it?”

And Felix – Felix _can’t_. He bursts out laughing, because it’s the most surreal conversation he’s ever had in his life, and that’s saying something.

“Oh my god, Sarah, you’re so messed up,” he wheezes.

“Shut up, I’m not,” she says, but she’s laughing too, and _fuck_ it feels good to have his sister back. And yeah, maybe the whole situation is screwed up, but as Tony kicks open the door with bags of takeout in one hand and a bottle of scotch in the other, blinking at Sarah as she doubles over and howls with laughter, Felix decides that he really, _really_ doesn’t care.

 


End file.
